Ours
by ezillyamused
Summary: Michonne and Carl take a day trip, just the two of them. Richonne, Carl and Michonne, Future Fic


**Michonne**

It was one of her favorite times of the day. Peeking through barely opened eyes as he quietly shuffled from the bed to the bathroom, leaving the door just ajar, preparing for the day. He moved slow, methodical and as quiet as the dead of night. That was his way. He began with splashing water over his face before he commenced his morning shave. He did it for her, though he'd never admit it. She liked him clean cut but in the evenings she'd often lie in his embrace and rub the thin patches of stubble with the back of her hand as they discussed the events of the day. Finishing up his teeth cleaning with a swish of cool water, he wiped the remnants from around his mouth with a white cotton towel then shuffled toward the closet where he began to don clothing set aside the night before. So structured, so predictable but that was his way.

She suspected he was like this before it all happened; before the world had turned into nothing but a quest to survive the wild. For so long they lived like beast roaming the land, seeking shelter and food where none was to be found. Fighting other people just to live another day. It was disgusting and exhausting but it was their way of life. They all longed for normalcy and it seemed they all went to extremes to find it in some way. She went back to reading law books and cases stuck in rusted and jammed file cabinets. It was a piece of her past that she hoped could still be a part of her future. She even took a job at the local school, teaching history and civics a couple of days a week to the high school aged kids. He aided in re-building a local law enforcement system and co-established an assembly of local farmers to grow food for the community.

Her focus returned to him as he plopped down in the armchair snuggled in the corner of their bedroom to slip on his work boots. Soon he would depart into their backyard and begin sowing seeds, listening to George Jones to keep him focused on his task: providing food for his family and community. As was his routine, before exiting, he strolled up to the bed and kissed her forehead before stroking her growing belly and speaking to their unborn child.

"Can't wait to see you," he whispered before planting a sweet kiss on Michonne's belly.

Rick leisurely strolled over the threshold of the entrance to their bedroom and quietly fastened the door. Within five minutes or so, she'd hear Rick or Carl holler at Judith not to open the door to their bedroom but the four year old never listened. Slowly the door crept open and Judith tip toed her way towards the bed, sliding her tiny body under the covers to snuggle next to Michonne. Judith's small hand skimmed across the gossamer gown covering Michonne's very pregnant belly and stopped at the top. Michonne slowly turned her head to Judith, her eyes squinting as she smiled at the little girl. Her hand covered Judith's tiny one as she lightly squeezed. Her skin was as smooth and soft as silk. A texture Michonne missed from long ago. She pushed back the lump in her throat as thoughts of her son flooded to the forefront of her mind.

"Good morning my sunshine," Michonne whispered, pushing the thoughts of Andre aside.

"Morning 'Chonne," Judith whispered in a sing song voice. "There's a baby in there," Judith stated pointing at Michonne's belly. The gesture made Michonne giggle. The little one was so intrigued with the fact that a baby was actually growing in Michonne's stomach. Michonne often wondered what was running through Judith's mind when she stared at her belly.

"Judith," Carl thundered through the bedroom door, though his deep voice was just above a murmur.

"It's alright," Michonne began, sitting up awkwardly, her belly in the way. "I've been up."

Carl reached across the bed, swooped up Judith in his arms and leaned in to kiss Michonne on the cheek. "I know."

He spun around quickly and quietly to exit the room just as Michonne swept her feet from under the covers to the side of the bed.

"We're still on for today, right," she asked, a slight smile flashing across her mouth.

Carl nodded, "Of course. It's our thing."

"You sure you don't want to invite your dad?"

Carl, contemplating the question, shifted Judith higher on his hip before nodding once more. "I don't want him to go."

Without hesitation Michonne replied, "I understand." She adjusted her body weight to assist herself in getting up out of the bed, refusing Carl's assistance but he remained standing there just in case. He was her sweet boy. As she came to her feet, she nodded for Carl to continue his daily battle with Judith. Lifting her arms high above her head, Michonne stretched away the night's sleep and began her own daily ritual.

* * *

><p><strong>Rick<strong>

Rick leaned back as Carl reached over and above him to retrieve the bucket of oats from the pantry for Judith and himself. Every morning Rick took an opportunity to step back and look at his life. His life now after the rampant plague, the detestable violent acts against other human beings he had no choice but to engage in and thought how far they'd all come. It was unbelievable really. How was it even possible that they came out of that mess of a world? But the truth of the matter was they didn't all make it. Not a day went by that one of his family members that perished didn't cross his mind. They all stepped up and would have given their lives for one another. They bonded in a way that he had never experienced with some of his own flesh and blood.

Rick felt the burn of glaring eyes piercing his soul and snapped out of his thoughts to find Carl leaning against the counter near the sink, staring at him while drinking a glass of Michonne's soy milk.

"I thought that was_ so gross_," Rick mocked, eyeing the glass Carl gripped. "Michonne know you drinking that?"

"It makes her sick now, remember and I didn't want it to go bad, so…" Carl said lifting the glass to his mouth for the last sip. He placed the now empty glass in the sink and took a seat next to Judith at the breakfast table.

Rick grabbed two slices of bread from the toaster, tossed them on a small plate and slid in the chair across from Carl. His son sat silent while picking with Judith as she ate her oatmeal. He was pondering something. Something heavy. Rick could see it in his boy's eyes. As of late, Carl became more reclusive, more withdrawn. The sheer thought of Carl going back to those dark days and that dark place terrified Rick more than anything but he could not keep the reins on his son forever. Carl was eighteen and very capable of taking care of himself and handling whatever came his way. Rick didn't have a choice but accept that Carl was more than equipped for life and had been for a very long time. As much as he wanted to shield and protect his kids, he knew he'd have to do so from afar. At least in the case of Carl.

"So," Rick broke the silence. "What you got planned for today?"

"I told you Michonne and I are going into town for some stuff," Carl replied. "Remember?"

Rick nodded and took a sip of water from the glass in front of him. "You know what to do while ya'll are out th-"

"Dad," Carl cut his father off, his voice low but his tone stating something very different. Rick lifted both hands off of the table as a symbol of being lax. "I've got my gun. Michonne keeps hers on her and there's ammo and more stuff in the car."

"I hear ya Carl but it is not gonna hurt me or you or Michonne if I reiterate to you that even though it's better, there's a danger still. You know there are a lot walkers roaming that haven't been captured yet. And then there's that rogue group of looters that refu-"

"To adapt to normal civilian life," Carl cut off and finished the sentence for his dad. "I know. You've told me every day for the past year and I'm fine. I'm still here."

"What's your problem," Rick gently placed a loving hand on his son's shoulder. "You doin' alright with that girl? What's her name again… Danielle?"

Carl rolled his eyes and stood up to put Judith's bowl in the kitchen sink. "I am not having this conversation with you."

"Why not," Rick requested. "You don't have a problem talking to Michonne about her."

"I knew she was filling you in," Carl grinned knowingly. He smiled and shook his head. "When you put that package of condoms on my bed I knew. But that's alright. I still love Mich."

"She doesn't tell me everything. No matter how much I try to pressure her. She cares very deeply about you."

"I know," Carl agreed. "It's easy to talk to her about Danielle. Nothing against you, it's just she's a woman and knows how women think. Michonne told me what to do to get in good with Danielle before I even thought about asking her out and it worked." Carl shrugged his shoulders, "I'm sorry I didn't come to you but I thought Michonne was the better source for information."

Patting his son on the back Rick chuckled, "You're a smarter man than I was at your age."

Michonne entered the kitchen, her stomach guiding the way. She seemed just as fit and agile as ever only now her stomach protruded a good foot ahead of the rest of her. It bothered Rick that she still insisted on doing everyday things while so advanced in her pregnancy but again he certainly wasn't going to be able to keep tabs on Michonne. It wasn't her way and though it sometimes frightened him, he sincerely loved that about her. Her strength, what she bore and overcame was incredible and he knew that if it wasn't for her he wouldn't be where he is today. He owed her his life. They all did.

Rick stood up and gently rubbed her lower back before kissing her gently on the lips. "Good mornin'," he smiled as he pulled away from her, gazing at her flawless face.

"Good mornin' to you too," she answered back. He passed her a piece of toast and she gladly took it and began to nibble. She forced herself to eat in the morning and these days it seemed like toast was the only thing she could keep down.

Rick leaned into Michonne and spoke low, "You feelin' alright? Are you sure you should be going out in your condition?" A slight smirk skimmed across his mouth.

"Stop," Michonne said shaking her head. "We're not going far. Just into town to pick up some things. It'll be like the old times when Carl and I went on runs." Turning her head towards Carl, she gave him a little wink.

"Bring me back something nice," Rick said glancing under eyed at Michonne. "But not another razor. I got the message loud and clear. You don't like the beard."

"But I do like you," she offered peacefully just before kissing him again.

"You two are so gross," Carl stated quickly while grabbing the car keys from the hook in the kitchen and swiftly exiting.

"Where do you think that baby in Mich's belly came from," Rick hollered after Carl.

"_That baby_," Michonne repeated. "Has a nice ring to it, don't you agree?"

"That may end up being their name since we can't seem to agree on one."

"Maybe we should let Carl name the baby."

"Yeah, he's good about that sorta thing. Thoughtful."

Rick reached down and picked up Judith, allowing her to embrace Michonne before running off to another room in the house.

"You gonna be alright with Judy," Michonne asked. "She about did you in the last time it was just the two of you."

"I think I can handle a four year old."

"You're gonna take her to Tyreese, aren't you," Michonne asked knowingly.

Rick smiled sheepishly before leaning in for another peck. With his hand on her lower back, he guided her out of the kitchen. "Ya'll be careful. Come back to me, okay?"

"We always do," Michonne replied with a wink of her eye.

* * *

><p><strong>Carl<strong>

Soft breezes passed through the open windows of the car and swarmed around Carl and Michonne as they traveled down the highway. It was still a bit strange to Carl when other cars passed by them on the open roads. It felt like their group were the only living inhabitants of the world for so long. He remembered when he first learned how to drive a car. It was on a long stretch of asphalt in an old Ford pick-up truck Daryl and his dad hotwired. He felt so free as he hauled down the highway, his dad yelling in his ear to slow down and trying to grab at the steering wheel. It wasn't that long ago really.

Not long ago life was very different than now. He didn't remember much about life before walkers. Most things were just a blur, a fragment of memories floating around in his head. Sometimes at night, he'd picture his mom. At least what would come back to him. His biggest fear was forgetting everything about her. How she looked, how her hugs felt, the way she smelled, the tone of her voice. They became more and more distant as the days passed. He tried hard to keep her memory. He often wrote in a journal when thoughts of her came to him. He'd kept it mostly to share with Judy as she got older.

"You thinkin' about her," Michonne interrupted his thoughts.

Carl sat silent for a while before speaking. "How do you always know?"

"You have this look," she sighed. "The same look I get when I think about Andre."

Seeing a tinge of pain shade over Michonne's eyes, he opted to change the subject, "So you've been talking to dad about me and Danielle I see."

"You never said _'ours' _so Danielle is fair game pal," Michonne returned unapologetically.

"Did you tell him we were… you know?"

"Not in so many words but yes I did let him know that you were at that point in your relationship with Danielle."

He laughed, embarrassed at his dad having that knowledge. "Wow. Thank you for giving my dad that visual of me with my girlfriend."

"I did nothing of the sort. You're dad is no fool. He knew you were up to something I just confirmed it for him," Michonne chuckled.

Carl had no choice but to join in on the laugh. Michonne had that way about her. An ease that made you forget about your cares. He loved that about her. She was youthful, though much older than him. Another thing Michonne possessed was brutal honesty.

"Do you guys like Danielle," Carl asked.

Michonne grinned before carefully replying, "She's a nice girl. Smart, strong. Seems to have a good head on her shoulders. She's good with Judy and respectful when she comes to the house. I like her quite a bit." Michonne answered. "And your dad does too. He doesn't bother remembering names these days, so the fact that he has hers committed to memory speaks volumes about her. You know he's a tough sell. Look how long it took him and me to get together."

Carl chuckled. "I know, I know."

They enjoyed the silence passing between them a bit more. Rick had been pestering Carl with twenty questions just about every day for the past month or so. Wanting to know the who, what, when, where and why about Carl's whereabouts. Carl didn't mind it so much but he did feel like his dad needed to loosen his grip. He was more than aware that things weren't perfect and he was fully capable of taking care of himself.

"He's worried about me again isn't he," Carl posed to disrupt the hushed car ride.

Michonne didn't take her eyes off the road but replied, "You're his son. If he wasn't worried, something would be wrong."

"But I need him to not be worried."

"It's all for love," Michonne affirmed. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah. It's just he needs to let me deal with things how I need to deal with things. Everything can't always go his way. That's why I don't want him to know anything. Especially our trip. This is _ours_, okay?"

Carl turned towards Michonne with pleading eyes. He knew how much Michonne loved and respected his dad and that it could possibly make her feel like she was lying to Rick but Carl wanted, no he needed her to keep this between the two of them.

"Of course," she said with a pat on his shoulder. "This can just be _ours_."

The rest of the ride was pretty relaxed as they debated over Marvel and DC comic storylines. Carl laughed and made fun of Michonne as she passionately explained her affinity to Batman villains. She had been his best friend, his confidant, his shield, his counselor but most importantly she had been his mom. He viewed her that way for a long time but never really knew how to go about acknowledging that without feeling like he had turned his back on his real mom. But today was different. Today he would proclaim it. Michonne would know that she meant so much more to him than just a friend. He wholeheartedly considered her his mom.

* * *

><p><strong>Michonne<strong>

Red dust flung in the air as the car came to a halt. Michonne opened up the passenger's door just as Carl hastily jumped out of the driver's side to assist her. They walked a few feet towards a field that appeared empty until they closed in on a small area of wooden crosses. Carl knelt down beside his mother's grave and placed some bright yellow buttercup flowers around the cross.

"Those are beautiful Carl," Michonne softly spoke as he arose from his mother's grave. In that moment she saw the small, vulnerable and hurting little boy she first met. A boy who not long ago lost his mother but stood tall and remained strong for all the adults around him. A boy who became a man so early in his life. A boy she loved and respected and trusted. Tears began to well up and her throat tightened.

"You think she'll like them," he asked not taking his eyes off the cross.

"She's gonna love them," Michonne answered, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

"Hey," Carl came to her and wrapped an arm around her as she allowed the tears to fall. "I didn't mean for you to- I don't think I've ever seen you cry except for that one time when I followed you out here."

He held on to her tight as she let all her emotions flow from her eyes. Her heart was heavy with pain and joy.

She remembered the first time she came back here on her own. After delivering the news to Rick that she was expecting, he was over the moon excited and thrilled. It brought so much love and peace to her seeing him that happy about the announcement, especially considering the state of the world. Rick was so proud he literally passed out the first thing he could grab with his hands, cabbages he had grown in their backyard instead of cigars to the neighbors. Shortly after that she felt this nagging in her heart and thoughts of Andre came like a torrent. A part of her felt like she was betraying her son. She never got the opportunity to properly say goodbye and here she was celebrating a new life she had created. She missed him so much to the point where it consumed almost every thought and pained her heart.

Overwhelmed with the ache, she fled the house one Saturday and just started to drive. Where to, she had no idea she just needed to get out of there and be alone. She found herself at the prison grounds, demolished and cleaned up except for a small area where the counsel had decided to bury their own. Walking to the graves, she fell to her knees and started digging furiously. A hole big enough to house the box she kept hidden next to the spare tire in the car. Over the years she accumulated things that reminded her of Andre; tonka trucks, crayons, stuffed animals and hid them safely in the box. The red dirt compacted under her nails and stained her fingers as she continued her strenuous excavation. A pool of tears drenched her face as flashes of her young son's face appeared and made themselves present. Collapsing to the ground she just sobbed and began to speak aloud to her son, apologizing for not being there, expressions of how much he meant to her.

The flat of someone's hand gently pressed against her shoulder and she swiftly turned, ready to attack when she looked up to find Carl towering over her. He apparently had followed her there. He sat next to her and wiped her face clean with his shirt. Not one words passed between the two of them. He just sat there beside her, allowing her to grieve the way she needed to grieve. After helping her bury the box, he fashioned a small cross next to the mound and then they left. The next morning he went with her to the courthouse and asked her if he could come with her the next time she went to visit. She kindly agreed.

"So," Carl started as Michonne stood and began to wipe her face. "We've been out her so many times and you haven't cried like that since that first day."

"And you want to know why," Michonne asked, a small beam creeping across her mouth.

Carl only nodded as he stood next to her, his eyes still on his mother's grave.

"Probably the hormones," Michonne laughed. "But mostly because I get to be called mom again."

Carl pondered her last words. She could see him calculating his thoughts into words. He had been much more thoughtful before speaking these days.

"Well, that's part of the reason I wanted to come out here today."

"What," Michonne questioned, a quizzical look flashing over her face.

"You've been in my life since I was about twelve," Carl began. "You've been my best friend. We've laughed together, killed walkers together, cracked jokes about people together, shared candy bars-" he laughed. "But more than any of that, you've shown me unconditional love. You didn't have to but you chose to and for that I'm super grateful. I may have lost my mom but I gained something amazing in you."

Michonne took a deep breath to try and suppress the tears from flowing again.

"Now, don't cry when I ask you this but," Carl started, "would you mind if Judy and I called you mom?"

"Oh, Carl," Michonne gasped. "I don't know what to say."

"I already had a really long talk with my dad and told him that we will always keep my mom's memory for Judith. I even showed him my journal. We'll always talk about her and let her know who she was but that I thought it would be nice to be able to call you mom, especially when the baby comes. It's probably going to be weird at first and if you don't want us to-"

"It's alright with me," she interrupted. "If it's okay with your dad it's okay with me."

An embrace between the two solidified his choice. She was so taken by his speech and by the fact that he felt like they had that type of relationship. She did love him unconditionally, so much that she would have easily given her life so that he may have one of his own. It was always her intention to be there for Carl because she had always only wanted what was best for him.

Carl released her and ran to the car and pulled out a bright royal blue cross. Walking towards Andre's box, Carl knelt down and removed the makeshift cross he crafted so quickly that first day and replaced it with one he had made with Andre's name painted in yellow block letters.

"That's wonderful," Michonne proclaimed.

"I made it for my little brother," Carl proudly stated with a smile. He stood up from where he was and put his arm around Michonne's shoulders. "Come on, let's go home."

"Are you sure you don't want to tell your dad about this," Michonne questioned once more.

Without wavering Carl responded, "No. I want this to always be just _ours_."


End file.
